


The Frog Revolutionary

by Anonymous



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Fairy Tale Retellings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-03-25
Packaged: 2017-12-06 11:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/735034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras has been turned into a tricoloured frog. Grantaire to the rescue!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Grantaire had never felt more out of place in his life. He was neatly groomed, dressed in his best, and, for once, completely sober. Yet, sitting in an antechamber in the palace made him feel incredibly nervous. Enjolras was making unhappy noises, about being in the palace. Grantaire really needed a drink. 

"Oh, shut it," Grantaire said. Two days ago Grantaire had gone to Enjolras's apartment in search of the revolutionary leader. No one had seen Enjolras for the last few days, and the Amis were becoming concerned. They had checked his rooms once already, but Grantaire went back to see it he had returned. Instead he had found a frog, a tricolored frog at that sitting Enjolras's bed. 

At first Grantaire had thought that it was just strange frog. Perhaps Enjolras was keeping it as a pet. 

It was when the frog responded Enjolras's name that Grantaire knew he had a problem. 

At first the solution seemed rather simple: lay off the absinthe.

Then once Grantaire began to realize that he wasn't hallucinating, he knew that he had to find a way to change Enjolras back. The sooner better. 

Dealing with a frog Enjolras had proved nearly impossible. First there was the communication problem. Enjolras would start croaking anytime he was unhappy. Unfortunately, Grantaire was not very good at keeping Enjolras happy. While Enjolras enjoyed swimming a few laps around the washtub, he refused to eat any of the flies Grantaire had caught for him. 

Their friends had proven less than helpful. 

"If you're not going to help us look for Enjolras, then don't waste our time with your drunken tales," Combeferre snapped. Combeferre of all people. 

"Now, now," said Couyferac seeing the hurt look on Grantaire's face. "He knows how much you love Enjolras. He's just worried about him."

"But this is Enjolas," Grantaire said, holding out the the croaking frog. 

"I know you think it is," said Couyferac gently, "but this isn't helping."

Joly placed hand to Grantaire's forehead, and diagnosed him as suffering from a mental breakdown brought on by excessive alcohol and triggered by Enjolras's disappearance. 

Bahorel had escorted him home. 

Grantaire, despite what some people might think, was not an idiot. He knew what needed to be done. He had known what the answer was almost as soon as he'd confirmed that the frog was Enjolras. He also knew it was solution Enjolras would fight.  
With out help from his friends, the only plan he could concoct was half baked at best.

It something like this: 

Step 1: Find a nice jar, poke some holes in the lid, add some dead flies and a nice moist piece of cloth for comfort. 

Step 2: Lie: "I know this guy, who knows a guy, who knows a witch. . ."

Step 3: As soon as Enjolras hops into the jar, screw the lid on tight. 

Step 4: Make yourself look respectable, slap a bow on the jar, and head straight for the palace. 

Step 5: Hand the jar to the first princess you see and hope for the best. 

That was how Grantaire found himself sitting in an antechamber. He had been instructed to wait. The guards and servants had all found his frog amazing, but now he was alone. 

The door opened. Five people entered the room. Grantaire only recognized two of them. One was general La Marque the other was the king.


	2. Chapter 2

Uncertain of whether etiquette dictated that he should kneel or bow, he tripped trying to do both. Somehow he managed to hold onto the jar. Enjolras croaked louder. 

"Your highness," Grantaire said. 

"Are you quite alright?" the king asked, kindly. His advisors were frowning. 

Grantaire nodded, climbing to he feet. 

"So let's see this amazing frog you've got," the king said. 

Grantaire held the jar out for the king to examine. Enjolras's croaking increased in volume. 

"Is that La Marseillaise?" The king said clapping his hands. "However did you teach him to do that." 

"That song is banned," snapped one of the advisors. 

"If we put him on public display, he'll cause a riot," said another. 

"He should belong to the people," La Marque said. 

"Quite right," the king said. 

This is the nice man you're trying to get rid of, Grantaire mentally told Enjolras. He doubted Enjolras could hear his thoughts but still. . .

"Your highness, if I may," said the last advisor, who had been quietly watching Grantaire with a look of distain. "Everyone should be subject to the law. Everyone should be equal under it. To make an exception for this frog, would be unjust."

However a few of his advisors need to go. 

"You're quite right, Enjolras," the king said with a sigh. Grantaire started at the name. It took him less than a second, to realize that the king was addressing his advisor, not his friend whose croaking had finally quieted. Grantaire could not help but stare at the man. The family resemblance was unmistakable. Well it has been before his Enjolras turned into a frog. 

"Further, I would say that this frog represents an affront to. . ." Enjolras, the elder continued. 

"It's a gift," Grantaire blurted. "From the people, to the princess, in honor of her upcoming birthday." 

"Oh my," said the king. "Which princess?"

"Your youngest," supplied the first advisor. 

"Daughter or granddaughter?" the king asked. 

"Daughter," the second advisor said. 

"Go and fetch her," the king said to the advisor. To Grantaire he said, "I have ten children. I love them all, but when you count grandchildren and in-laws, someone is always having a birthday."

While they waited for the princess, Grantaire studied the elder Enjolras. It was clear the man knew everything. Likewise the man was studying him. 

"What did you say you name was?" he asked. Grantaire hadn't given a name. 

"Marius Pontmercy," he said. For some reason it was the only name that came to mind. 

Grantaire tried to formulate a escape plan. 

The princess swept into the room, and curtsied towards her father. 

"Darling," the king said, "a gift from the people."

Grantaire bowed and presented the jar containing Enjolras to her. 

"Oh my," said the princess, seizing the jar. "Aren't you the cutest thing ever!" With amazing speed and dexterity she opened the jar, grabbed Enjolras, and planted a kiss on his head. 

Nothing happened.


	3. Chapter 3

Well not exactly nothing. Enjolras managed to slip from the princess's grasp. He hopped away. Grantaire made dash for the nearest exit, and scooped Enjolras up along the way.

He tore through the palace, out into the garden, past the guards at the gate, and into the street. Grantaire didn't stop running until he collapsed in alley. 

"I'm so sorry," he said to the still croaking, very frightened, Enjolras. "I thought a kiss from a princess would change you back."

Grantaire could feel Enjolras's heart racing. That couldn't be good, especially since he had not eaten since he had become a frog. 

"There, there," Grantaire said, petting him gently. He kissed him on the head. There was a puff of smoke, and Enjolras was sitting before him in his original form. Grantaire was stunned. 

Enjolras had not noticed. His croaks changed it to words, and for the first time Grantaire understood what Enjolras had been trying to tell him for days. 

". . .has to be true love's first kiss, you dolt. How the others miss my note. I left it right my desk explaining everything. It took me days to write it. When they finally noticed I was missing and checked my apartment they walked right by it. And you keep trying feed me flies, but I think they've been sprayed with poisoned. I know you meant well, but it hurt when she squeezed me..." He dissolved into a fit of tears. 

"It's over," Grantaire said. "You're safe now." He stood, and offered his hand to Enjolras. 

Enjolras took it and rose unsteadily to his feet. 

"I'm going to die a frog," he said. "It's either starve to death or eat a poisoned fly." 

"You're not a frog anymore," Grantaire said. He put an arm around Enjolras and led him back to the cafe Musian, where a very apologetic Combeferre was waiting with rest of their friends. 

"We should never have doubted you," Coufeyrac said. 

"It's a pretty improbable story," Grantaire said. He opened a bottle of wine. 

Joly and Combeferre were fussing over Enjolras. One was feeding him soup while the other tried to bandage his bruised ribs. 

"What made you change your minds?" Grantaire asked. 

"We found his note," Combeferre said. 

Couyferac held it out for Grantaire to read:

"Dear Friends,

"I refused to marry the woman my father chose for me. He said he would make me learn to love her. He hired a witch to curse me. I have been turned into a frog. The way to break the curse is true love's first kiss. Since I love only my country, this might be a problem. 

"Please help!

"Enjolras

"P. S. he refused to pay the witch after she placed the curse. She might be willing to help."

"So, I take it you found the witch?" Coufeyrac said. Grantaire was unsure of what to say. 

"No," Enjolras said. "The spell broke when I was kissed, by someone who represented the people to the king." 

That hurt a little, but Grantaire should have know that Enjolras could not love him. 

"Grantaire," Enjolras said, as he rose to leave. "Thank you, for taking care of me." 

Then when he was close enough for only Grantaire to hear he said, "If you like you can stay with me tonight. I don't want true love's first kiss, to be the last."

Grantaire put the bottle and followed him. 

The End.


End file.
